


Wanted

by QuillMind



Series: Clandestine [4]
Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Cheating, Dirty Talk, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, One Night Stands, Reader-Insert, Seduction, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:38:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7863943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMind/pseuds/QuillMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say talk is cheap, but sometimes words are all you need.  Hatano may be the most diminutive of the D-Agency's men, but that doesn't mean you should underestimate him.  Or that silver tongue of his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanted

There were less and less of these fancy parties, even among the rich.  The war's reach was increasing by the day, it seemed, and the more ground it covered, the less tolerance there was for decadence.  In time, these balls and galas might become extinct, and who knows when they could happen again? 

All the more reason to enjoy them while those able to afford them could. 

That was how you found yourself in the middle of this extravagance, with no option to refuse since you were the wife of the host--though you were loathe to use that word to describe yourself.  You were used to attending these parties since childhood, but that didn't make this night any more pleasant.  Promised to him from a young age and forced to marry as part of a business transaction between each other's parents, you had never loved your husband, but now it was impossible for you to even like him.  But you could not leave him not matter how much you wished, so you stayed in this gilded cage, a pretty toy for him to show off and play with whenever he liked. 

Now finally free of the tedium of greeting guests and making nice with your husband's friends, you stood in a secluded area of upper floor of the mansion, nursing a glass of wine that was growing warm.  The hall glowed with romantic lighting and sweeping music kept couples dancing, but all you could think about was how much you hated being here. 

"What a sad sight you are," a cocky voice drawled. 

You whipped your head around to catch the source of the insult.  Who would be stupid enough to talk to you like that? 

He was not very tall, but carried himself with a confidence that made him seem much larger.  He had exceptionally high eyelid creases, giving him a perpetually lazy yet condescending look.  Handsome was not quite the right word for him, but he had a youthful, boyish charm that suggested he knew more than he let on.  Dressed sharply in a suit, he took a sip from his glass of whisky as he leaned against the wall. 

"You'll bring down the mood of the whole party if you spend it looking like that," he said, cocking his head to one side. 

You frowned.  "Am I to enjoy this wasteful display of money, then, when we're so close to war?"

The man stepped closer to you, tilting his glass from side to side.  "Everyone else is.  Him, especially."

A glimpse at where the man was pointing, and you saw your husband, red-faced and guffawing as he slung his arms around a young woman at the roulette tables. 

The sound of the snort you made barely registered, as you were so used to his profligate and philandering antics.  "That girl--when I was sixteen, she still hadn't lost all of her milk teeth."

An impressed whistle.  "He's got a taste for underripe fruit, has he?"

You caught his gaze with an arresting glare.  "He's my husband."

The man was not at all apologetic for his faux pas--if anything, he looked utterly pleased at learning this new detail.  "Aren't you going to go and pull her away from him, then?"

"If you're expecting a catfight, you're sorely mistaken."  You took a longer sip of your wine and turned your face away from both the man and the scene below that you had become all too used to.  Your lips pressed hard on the glass and left most of your lipstick on it, but you didn't care.  "It's hardly the first time.  He doesn't even try to hide it from me anymore."  The few times you had been in bed with your husband early on were unpleasant, though thankfully not too lengthy; the perfunctory pawing at your breasts, rough fingering done with untrimmed nails, then a quick cut to him grunting down the home stretch until he was sated, while you were eager to take a bath.  You were glad that he no longer bothered to try anything sexual with you, being distracted by drinking, gambling, and far younger, flashier girls.  But you were painfully unfulfilled, craving someone to hold and kiss. 

Suddenly your head felt heavy, and you let it sag back on your neck while you blankly let your eyes drift over the bright yellow chandeliers above.  It was rare for you to allow yourself a moment of outspoken self-pity, and now seemed like an acceptable time for it.  "I was never the one he wanted, anyway.  Just a means to a fortune."

Rather than offer sympathy, the man spoke daggers at you.  "Then that makes you the most miserable woman under this roof.  Surrounded by empty-headed boors and fattening themselves on the diminishing bits of excess without realizing their days are numbered.  But _you_ know this, and still choose to stay here."

You straightened your posture and flattened your lips.  What sort of man was he, to so openly and unapologetically speak to you like this?  You couldn't recognize him from any of your social circles, but to be fair that didn't mean much--your husband invited people to his parties as freely as trash invited flies.  The fact that he wasn't wrong only vexed you further. 

"I'm here because I _have_ to be," you nearly snarled.  "What is your name?" 

He answered. 

Your hand squeezed on the stem of the wine glass as you addressed him properly.  "If you're so unimpressed by this party and myself, I can have you removed, if you prefer." 

"I don't intend on leaving here before I've had you naked underneath me."

_Oh._

That stopped your brain, and your mouth, right in their tracks.  You gaped at him, frozen. 

The man--who would more commonly go by the name of Hatano when with a certain group of associates, a name that you would never learn--broadened the smile on his face as he raised his hand to your mouth.  So steady was his muscle control that he floated the pad of his thumb across your lower lip without touching it at all while keeping it close enough that you could detect his heat from it.  Unconsciously, you inhaled through your mouth sharply, as if trying to capture his essence. 

"You were so quick with the comebacks a moment ago, but now you're speechless.  I'm good at that."  He chuckled with the amusement of an innocent child, but then a ravening glint lit up his eyes.  "Before long, I could see this mouth of yours open even wider as it cries out my name." 

Your breath caught in your throat as his speech then became slower, more intimate.  "I bet you're the type that would become _very_ loud when touched and tasted the right way.  And I also bet... it's been far too long since you've been loud." 

Draining his glass before placing it on a window sill, Hatano circled around you, just close enough to let you feel the disrupted air breeze through your hair.  He now stood on the other side of you and brought his arms up behind him to hold his head in his hands while looking out onto the ballroom floor, a light and casual expression on his face as he spoke so that, from a distance, people would merely assume you and he were having a benign, friendly conversation. 

"We really are in a den of fools, since no one else here has eyes nor sense to pay attention to you.  If it were me, I would have that dress of yours put in its proper place on the floor, and spend the entire night learning your body and wearing it out."  He smiled at you as if he were recounting the memories of a fun summer vacation, so contrary to the low, insinuating tone of his voice. 

Your skin prickled and your lips tingled, as if their entire surface had been stung by bees.  No one had ever spoke to you like this before.  On paper, you might have slapped the face of any man having the gall to say such things to you.  Here in current reality, however, it was different.  This man was not some uncouth drunk or lecher.  This one was observant, witty, and constantly looking at you like you were the only one in this entire house.  You almost wondered if he could see through your dress to your naked body, which was firing up with sensations that it had not felt in a long time.  Your pulse was quickening, warmth was welling up from your core and fanning out, and the nerves of your lower body shivered with electricity. 

Your voice finally came back into your control, and as you approached the balustrade to stand beside him, you unsteadily gave an automatic response to defend against his words: "I have a husband."  Even you had to wince at how pathetic you sounded. 

"Who's a tasteless idiot, a filthy cheat, and a liar.  And you aren't the only one he's deceived and betrayed."  The response was so swift and disdainful that you questioned whether he had his own grievance against your husband.  It would have not surprised you--along with plowing through money, booze and women, your husband had been involving himself in increasingly shady business as of late, though he refused to give you the details. 

 Hatano nodded towards the tables, never taking his eyes off of you.  "But I'll say this for your husband: he knows the value of enjoying himself rather than being bound by rules, expectations or etiquette, and he looks quite happier for it.  Maybe you should take a page from his book and do as you like, for once."

A distant hollering pulled your attention away.  Your husband had apparently won a large hand, and downed his champagne while slapping his hand on the young girl's behind and kissing the shoulder of a buxom redhead who stood opposite of the girl. 

 _Do as you like?_   As much as you had always longed to do so, such a thing was never an option to you.  And in being so tightly chained by rules and beaten with disappointments and crushed wishes for so long, you had become resigned to your fate. 

"I promise that you would not regret it," Hatano said, leaning on the balustrade on his elbows with his face cupped in his hand.  "I wouldn't rest until I've find the spots to touch to make you trembling, then I'd keep touching them until you beg for me to stop." 

God, his _words_ were having such an effect on you.  Your nipples ached with need, and you could tell that your underwear was becoming damp.  What would it be like when he actually touched you?  You swallowed hard, an act he did not let go unnoticed.

"Are you thinking about what I would do to you?" he asked.

Your face flushed hot and pinched its features as you fought to keep calm.  It was as good an answer as any. 

The playfulness vanished, replaced with pure seductive intent.  "What do you see me doing?  Pushing my fingers into your dripping cunt?  Spreading your legs wide and licking your eager pussy?  Or maybe you'd prefer to sit on my face and make a mess of it while you play with your breasts.  All of that can happen, plus having me buried deep inside of you, moving back and forth, in and out..." 

The vulgarity of his words carried an incredible erotic charge that you could not have anticipated. 

"Please..."  You tried to protest, to make an excuse, to hang onto the tenets of being a proper wife, but then you thought of his eyes drinking in the sight of you, his voice right against your ear, his fingers teasing you towards madness, his cock sheathing itself in you, and it became impossible to form the rest of your sentence. 

"Better practice saying that word now, because you'll be repeating it a _lot_ later on." 

The tension between your thighs was bordering on unbearable.

He leaned in closer, whispering with alarming tenderness.  "Let yourself go, just for one night.  You deserve that, at least.  One night, and I'll show you how much of a goddess you are.  Let me free you."

Your lip was trembling, your eyes darting all over, afraid to settle on anything out of fear that you would somehow be found out by the other guests.  How did he go from being so obscene to worshipful in the blink of an eye like that?

"You... You say such embarrassing things so easily."

Back to being smug again.  " _You_ make it easy, and it's not at all embarrassing.  I want you."  He let that declaration sit with you for a bit, knowing how deeply it sunk into you.  "What about you?  What do you want?"

You had both long since abandoned the act of behaving like you were speaking platonically, and were peering deeply into his eyes.  The haze of desire enriched with nervous excitement was unmistakable on your face, but everyone else was too engrossed in the party to notice, except for one man. 

You wanted to keep it that way--but in a more private setting.

"Upstairs," you said thickly.  "To the right, then the last door on the left.  I'll tell the maid that I'm feeling sick and to not disturb me." 

A lopsided grin befitting the devil came over his face. 

"I'll meet you there."

You licked your lips in anticipation.  "Don't make me wait."

He didn't.  Nor did he fail to live up to any of his other claims he had made to you earlier. 

He lavished ten times the attention and care on you that your husband had throughout the entirety of your marriage, using his hands, mouth and cock to keep you a writhing, sweaty mess.  It was made clear to you many times over that his short stature had _no_ relation to his physical prowess or stamina.

Though you were initially fearful of being found, unbeknownst to you, Fukumoto had engaged your husband in a high-stakes poker game, maintaining a fine balance between losing and winning (with some assistance from Tazaki and Amari) to keep him preoccupied for the night. 

In the morning you awoke to find Hatano gone, and lay in your bed for some time, neither surprised nor disappointed.  Smiling, satiated, you smoothed the sheets in the spot where he had been laying with idle fingers.  In one incredible night, you had felt desirable, beautiful, _wanted_ , a state of being that had re-awakened a spark in your that had practically been snuffed out for the last several years. 

And when the panicky maid burst into your room, going on about how your husband had just been arrested on charges of enemy collaboration, and you saw him being dragged away by military police as he yelled of how the incriminating evidence had been stolen from his study, you could not help the corners of your mouth from tugging upward as you had a hunch as to who was behind this turn of events. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a story that doesn't involve intercourse for a change, so we get seduction/dirty talk! 
> 
> This was by far the most challenging one I've written so far. Hatano is a tough one to portray, since he looks so much like a boy, so I struggled with whether it was believable for him to be saying the stuff he says here. (；￣Д￣) Not to mention I had serious difficulty coming up with dirty talk that sounded acceptable.
> 
>  ~~Miyoshi~~  
>  ~~Tazaki~~  
>  ~~Amari~~  
>  ~~Hatano~~  
>  Four down, four to go!


End file.
